


Star-Crossed Lovers

by bumblebi221



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Fluff, High School, Inspired by Romeo and Juliet, M/M, Theatre, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:41:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28644630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bumblebi221/pseuds/bumblebi221
Summary: Prompt fill for imapala67-aka-baby on Tumblr: Hey, I was wondering if you could do a sabriel (Sam Winchester x gabriel from supernatural) prompt where Sam and Gabe are students and both have feelings for the other but are sacred to admit it (because insecurities you know) and they do a nativity play (or something like that) where they are a couple and go through a tragedy and at the end of the play one of them decides to confess their love and is super nervous and the other just kisses them (you don't have to make them kiss if you don't want to) and then asks for a dateNOTE: Not versed in nativity plays so I picked Romeo and Juliet instead, hope that's alright!
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Gabriel/Sam Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	Star-Crossed Lovers

“Hey, Sammy! The cast list’s up!” Dean said enthusiastically, shoveling a school-issue burger into his mouth. Dean was one of the few kids who didn’t hate the school’s kitchen creations, as proved by the fact that this was his second burger. Sam had opted instead for the wilting salad with a packet of ranch dressing.

“Really?” Dean nodded.

“Who’d you get?”

“I’m Mercutio,” Dean bragged. “I can’t wait to get stabbed. It’ll be a true display of my innate talent.” Cas, sitting next to Dean, rolled his eyes. Cas and Dean had been going steady for over a year, and they were practically joined at the hip.

“Who’d you get, Cas?” Sam asked.

“I’m Tybalt.” Sam choked on his milk.

“Seriously?”

“Very.”

“So you’re going to…?” Sam trailed off, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“Yes.” Cas smiled, but Dean’s face was one of mock anger.

“I can’t believe you’re actually going to do it! That is not how you treat your boyfriend.”

“And what do you want me to do about it?” Cas teased.

“We’ll re-write the scene. Tybalt and Mercutio can run off into the sunset. Or at the very least, someone else can kill me.”

“Not in a million years,” said Cas smugly, patting the grumpy Dean’s head and attempting to kiss his cheek.

“So who did I get?” Sam asked after a moment. The couple turned to him, looked back at each other, and then back to Sam again.

“Go see for yourself,” said Dean. Sam sighed and got up to do so. He’d probably been cast as a small role. He was only a freshman, after all, and he didn’t think he nailed his audition. He’d been too distracted by Gabriel Shurley. Gabe was the worst. He was always playing tricks on people and seemed to enjoy bullying Sam especially. Sam hoped Gabe hadn’t been cast - no way he’d put up with that jerk for ten weeks. But Gabe’s dad was the director, so the chances of that happening were slim. As he walked down the hallway from the cafeteria to the auditorium, he thought of all the times Gabe had pranked him. There was that one time where he somehow hacked Sam’s computer and phone to think it was Tuesday for a whole month. Another time, he had dressed up as different TV show characters for a whole week and kept insisting that Sam ‘play along’. Then Sam reached the auditorium, and he immediately made a beeline for the doors. He scanned the list for his name, and found it where he least expected - right at the top.

CAST  
Romeo: Sam Winchester  
Juliet: Gabriel Shurley  
Mercutio: Dean Winchester  
Benvolio: Adam Milligan  
Tybalt: Castiel Novak  
Juliet’s father: Lucifer Shurley  
Juliet’s mother: Jo Harvelle  
Friar Laurence: Crowley McLeod  
Count Paris: Anna Milton  
Balthasar: Balthazar Novak  
Prince Escalus: Ash Harvelle  
Juliet’s nurse: Pamela Barnes  
Peter: Kevin Tran

He’d been cast as the lead! In freshman year! No wonder Dean had wanted to keep it a surprise. He read the rest of the names, pleased to see so many of his friends on the list. Then he read who would be Juliet, and froze. Gabe. Of all people. Being in a play with him would be unpleasant, but playing his love interest? Downright unbearable. He could see it now: Gabe, overexaggerating everything, getting far too close to Sam for his liking, following him around after rehearsal, nitpicking his lines, making faces behind the director while Sam tries to listen to feedback. He nearly went in search of the director, Chuck, to step down from his role, but something stopped him. He couldn’t turn down an opportunity like this. Dean, Cas, Uncle Bobby - they were all so excited for him. Well, Uncle Bobby would be, when he told him the news. So Sam swallowed his bitterness and tried to be excited about the play.

One week into rehearsals. It was about as bad as Sam had expected.

“Okay, guys, we’re running act 1, scene 2. Romeo, whenever you’re ready,” Chuck said. Sam stepped forward and took a breath.

“He jests at scars that never felt a wound.” Now Gabe stepped forward as Juliet. “But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the East, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief that thou, her maiden, art far more fair than she.” Sam continued talking as Gabe pretended to swoon. “O, that I were a glove upon that hand, that I might… touch that cheek.”

“Ay, me.” Gabe sighed. Sam turned to the house.

“She speaks.” Sam turned back to Gabe. “O speak again, bright angel, for thou art as glorious to this night, being o’er my head, as a wingèd messenger of heaven unto the white-upturnèd wond’ring eyes of mortals that fall back to gaze on him when he bestrides the lazy puffing clouds and sails upon the bosom of the air.” Chuck nodded, pleased with Sam’s pronunciation and articulation.

“O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name, or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I’ll no longer be a Capulet.”

“Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?”

“’Tis but thy name that is my enemy. Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What’s Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face. O, be some other name belonging to a man. What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other word would smell as sweet. So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called, retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, and, for thy name, which is no part of thee, take all myself.”

Three weeks into rehearsals, and most people were off-book. The Winchesters were driving home from rehearsal when Dean spoke up.

“You guys are cute together,” he chuckled. Sam’s eyes narrowed in confusion.

“What?”

“You and Gabe. You’re good at playing in love. It’s cute. Unless you’re not playing?” Sam swatted Dean’s arm as his older brother smirked.

“Jerk.”

“Hey, I’m only joking. Don’t be so uptight.” Sam didn’t say anything, but glared out the window for the rest of the ride.

Five weeks into rehearsals, and the set had begun to be constructed.

“Where the devil should this Romeo be? Came he not home tonight?” Dean as Mercutio paced impatiently around while Adam, playing Benvolio, explained what he knew.

“Hey, Sammy.” Sam turned to see Gabe in the seat next to him.

“Hey.” He turned back to the stage, determined to ignore his neighbor.

“Dean’s doing great as Mercutio.”

“Yeah, he is.”

“And you’re a superb Romeo.”

“Um, thanks.” Sam tried to keep from turning towards the nuisance.

“Well, aren’t you going to return the favor?”

“Wh-what?”

“You’re not going to compliment my Juliet?” Sam couldn’t take it anymore, and turned to face Gabe, who had donned a mock-pout.

“You’re doing great,” Sam said, exasperated.

“Why, thank you, Sammy. I’m blushing.” Sam sighed and returned his attention to the stage. “Well, your cue’s coming up. Better get backstage.” Sam rolled his eyes, but was glad to get away, and hurried onstage in time for his line.

“Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give you?”

“The slip, sir, the slip. Can you not conceive?” Mercutio shook his head disappointedly.

Seven weeks in, and costumes were being sewn, makeup decided on.

Nine weeks in, and they were running the full-scale production, complete with lights, music, and costumes. But opening night still came like an oncoming train. The whole afternoon, the auditorium was buzzing with cast and crew alike, and between the warm-ups and makeup and costumes and final touches, there was scarcely time for chatting. Somehow, though, Sam saw Dean and Cas off in a corner, “rehearsing the duel” yet again. Sam was pretty sure they’d already gotten it down pat. He noticed Gabe was twitchier than usual, but he chalked it up to opening night nerves and didn’t think of it twice.

The show ran smoothly; the cast gave it their all and the crew did, too. The audience was stunned at the costumes and sets, and the realistic props.

“No, ’tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door, but ’tis enough. ’Twill serve. Ask for me tomorrow, and you shall find me a grave man. I am peppered, I warrant, for this world. A plague o’ both your houses! Zounds, a dog, a rat, a mouse, a cat, to scratch a man to death! A braggart, a rogue, a villain that fights by the book of arithmetic! Why the devil came you between us? I was hurt under your arm.” Dean fell over, gasping dramatically as Sam and Adam stood round him. 

“I thought all for the best,” said Sam.

“Help me into some house, Benvolio, Or I shall faint. A plague o’ both your houses! They have made worms’ meat of me. I have it, and soundly, too. Your houses!” The lights dimmed and Dean crawled offstage with Adam, leaving Sam alone onstage listening to the audience’s applause for Dean. Offstage, the boy was grinning and embracing his pretend-murderer.

“You’re still not forgiven, Cas,” he whispered as they made their way to the back room to join the rest of the offstage cast.

It soon came time for Juliet to drink the poison. Sam found himself genuinely moved by Gabe’s performance, despite his dislike of him. It was still dislike. For sure.

Then it was Sam’s big scene.

“Eyes, look your last. Arms, take your last embrace. And, lips, O, you the doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss a dateless bargain to engrossing death.” Sam bent down and reluctantly planted a kiss on Gabe’s forehead, trying not to think about what he was doing. “Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavory guide! Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on the dashing rocks thy seasick weary bark! Here’s to my love. Drinking. O true apothecary, thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die.” He downed the cup of “poison” and fell backwards with a choked gasp as the audience applauded. Then Crowley and Balthazar exchanged a few words, and then Gabe sat up, looking around before seeing Sam, dead, on the ground.

“What’s here? A cup closed in my true love’s hand? Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end.— O churl, drunk all, and left no friendly drop to help me after! I will kiss thy lips. Haply some poison yet doth hang on them, To make me die with a restorative.” Gabe bent down, and Sam prepared for the warm press to his forehead, like they’d rehearsed, but Sam found Gabe’s lips instead on his own. He made a noise of protest but quickly remembered he was supposed to be dead. The kiss lasted much longer than it was supposed to, but Sam didn’t realize this, as he was too busy trying not to immediately wrap his arms around the boy kissing him. Sam was beginning to enjoy it when, all too soon, Gabe pulled away. “Thy lips are warm!” The first watch called from offstage. “Yea, noise? Then I’ll be brief. O, happy dagger, this is thy sheath. There rust, and let me die.” Gabe stabbed himself and lay down beside Sam. As they waited for the end of the play so they could exit the stage, there had never been a more awkward situation. Their hands were just inches apart, so close, and yet any movement would break character. Sam nearly missed his cue to leave because he’d been thinking about the kiss. Suddenly Gabe had grabbed his hand and was tugging him offstage to the raucous clapping of the audience. Then curtain calls were happening, and the backstage celebrations, and then everyone was suggesting going for pizza. Dean had said yes, and he was Sam’s ride, so even if Sam had wanted to skip, he didn’t have much of a say in the matter. Gabe was going, too. Everybody congratulated each other on a job well done, but Sam and Gabe didn’t approach each other just yet.

Pizza was fun. Dean entertained everybody by replaying his stabbing, but this time way more overdone than normal. Crowley went around offering soft drink “sleeping draughts” to people. Sam was glad he decided to do the play, after all. He hadn’t forgotten about what Gabe had done, though. He wondered if that had been planned on Gabe’s part, or a last-minute decision. If it was planned, then how long had Gabe been planning it? Most of all, though, Sam had liked it. He had wanted more. But he’d hated Gabe. Ugh. Sam needed to clear his head. He went outside, even though it was below freezing. The sky was clear, and he looked up at the stars as he contemplated the evening.

“It’s beautiful tonight.” Gabe stood a few feet away, as if waiting for permission to come closer. “Hey, Sammy.”

“Gabe. Hi. Um. Good… good job tonight. In the play.” Gabe took a few steps forward.

“Thanks. You, too.” They stood in silence, Gabe looking up at the sky, Sam looking at Gabe. Sam couldn’t bear it.

“Why… why did you kiss me?” Gabe turned from his observation. Sam couldn’t figure out the expression on his face.

“Because I wanted to.”

“Oh.”

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I didn’t expect you to. I just… I just had to. Sorry.” Sam looked down at his shoes.

“No, it’s - I didn’t… not enjoy it.” Gabe perked up.

“Really?”

“Really. I’m just surprised, is all. I… I need to think about it.”

“Well, Sammy, take all the time you need. And when you’ve finished thinking, there's an invitation to dinner that’ll be waiting for you.” Sam looked up at Gabe and smiled.

“Thanks, Gabe.”

“I’ll see you, Sammy.” And with that, the enigma that was Gabriel Shurley was walking back into the pizza place, leaving Sam staring up, grinning, at the sky.

“Gabe, wait!” Sam ran after him, forgetting that he’d be right in the middle of a crowd of classmates.

“What is it, Sam?” Gabe looked at him, and Sam suddenly stumbled.

“I, um. I don’t want to think about it anymore. No. I don’t need to think. Gabe, I - I really like you. A lot. And I think that - ”

“I thought you said no more thinking.” And Gabe crossed the distance between them, and he was kissing Sam, and Sam couldn’t think even if he tried, and Gabe’s arms were around his shoulders, and Sam was lifting Gabe up, because he was so short, but Sam wouldn’t have traded it for anything.


End file.
